Flushed Away: The Next Change of Scene
by Firefall Bangenthump
Summary: Roddy and Rita are finally on the way home from France, but the last leg of their journey proves harder than they anticipated. An unexpected fuel shortage strands them in the Channel Islands, where they meet some old friends...and an old enemy.
1. An Unexpected Problem

It goes without saying that the characters of the original _Flushed Away_ are the works of the cosmically creative wizards of Aardman Animation and DreamWorks Studios. It also goes without saying that this story wouldn't exist without the kind words and encouragement of reviewers, to whom I am in debt.

This story uses characters introduced in _Yet Another Change of Scene _of which this entire piece is a continuation. I apologise for the grand-scale self-reference and hope that it will not cause anyone any problems.

* * *

There was a scrape of metal as the other boat drifted into the _Jammy Dodger II_'s stern. Rita Malone glared at it and called across to its pilot. 

"Watch where you're going you clown, or you'll have us both in!"

"Calm down, Rita, it wasn't that bad," said Roddy St. James, who was watching his companion carefully as one might watch a ticking bomb.

"Oh, as if that's the point," shot back Rita. "Don't think I didn't hear that either! Don't make me come over there!" She turned her attention back to the luckless pilot, who was frantically trying to get as far away from her as possible.

"I don't think threatening to board them works any longer," opined Roddy. "And you're attracting a little too much attention. Sit down, calm down and relax a little. It isn't as if we're going anywhere in a hurry."

That much was true. They were just a hundred yards away from the English Channel, the last significant obstacle to their journey home, and they were caught in traffic. Rita glared around her some more, as if using her emerald eyes to set up some kind of inviolable force field, and then sat next to Roddy.

"Typical," she muttered. "There's always a traffic jam."

"Well, at least this one has a good reason to exist," said Roddy. "See, this is what happens when someone builds an outlet below high tide. We've got to wait for the sea to go down and open up the way into the Channel."

"Stupid way of doing things," said Rita.

Roddy put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Yes, it's such a shame they couldn't make the tides go the other way. Maybe they'll do better next time."

It wasn't much of a joke, but it brought the faintest of smiles to Rita's face. The tunnel here was enormously wide, but there was hardly room to move. Rat boats of all descriptions packed it from side to side, waiting for the tide to subside enough to let them out. A bored-looking French rat in a dirty uniform sat in a small box from which hung a string that blocked the route Channel-wards. The air was thick with noise- engines, conversation in a dozen languages and the occasional collision between the tight-packed flotilla.

"Only the French could arrange something this badly," said Rita.

"Yes, only the British know how to queue properly," Roddy looked around them. If there was any kind of order, he couldn't see it. Boats should have been taking station in the order of arrival, but nobody was following the rules. Half of the boats were jockeying for a position near the front of the pack, and the other half were trying to keep theirs. The _Jammy Dodger II_ had a natural advantage, being somewhat larger than most competitors as well as carrying enough hidden surprises to sink anything which got in its way. Right now, Rita was one of them.

"This is how they do it at Suez, you know," continued Roddy. "One group of ships passes through in one direction. Ships going the opposite way just have to wait."

"Whereabouts do they do that?"

"Suez," repeated Roddy.

"Whose?" It took Roddy a moment to see the smile on her face.

"Oh, right, a joke. Yes, very good."

"I don't even get a sympathy laugh?" She feigned a pout.

"For that one you'd be lucky to get a suspended sentence and community service," said Roddy. Rita laughed.

"All right, maybe it isn't so bad. But it still strikes me as badly-organised. Who built the Suez Canal again?"

"The French," said Roddy.

"My point exactly." Rita patted his knee and stood up again. "You wouldn't think getting home would have been the hardest part of the holiday, would you?"

"I'm sorry, did we go on holiday?" Roddy grinned. "I remember running out of petrol, you nearly dying, me fighting a cat, you falling off a cliff in Monaco, me getting kidnapped, you jumping out of a plane to save me and then me getting shot. At what point did this holiday take place and why wasn't I told?"

"Well, you can't say we won't remember it," said Rita.

"I'm debating whether it even happened," pointed out Roddy. "It doesn't count as relaxing holiday if the most peaceful time was spent in hospital."

Rita smiled. "And you were telling me to calm down a few minutes ago?"

Roddy lay back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. "Oh, I'm not saying it didn't enjoy myself. Just that this probably wasn't what your parents had in mind when they arranged this."

"To be honest, I don't want to know what my parents thought we'd be doing," said Rita. "But you're right. I don't think they thought it'd be this interesting."

"Well, I wouldn't call it 'interesting' exactly," said Roddy. He sat up again and went to join her at the controls. "Not 'interesting'. Something between 'terrifying' and 'a catalogue of disasters' would have been my preference."

Rita laughed and slid a hand around his waist.

"I think one or two things might have gone right, though," she said.

Roddy smiled. "The jury might still be out on that one as well," he joked. Rita poked him playfully.

"You're not winning yourself any favours here, Roddy. Don't make me make you scrape the keel again. You know what happened last time."

"You mean the time you asked if I wanted to go for a swim shortly before pushing me into the water? Water, I might add, that you had to scrape the penguins off before you could even see it." Roddy poked her back.

"Was it a little chilly, Roddy?" grinned Rita.

"No, when I said that thing about the penguins I meant it was pleasantly tropical. Of course it was chilly! The icicles on my whiskers didn't give that away?"

"It was essential routine maintenance, you know. Someone had to do it."

"That wasn't essential routine anything. That was tantamount to a keel-hauling." Roddy put on an air of offended dignity.

"You're just lucky I don't have a plank to make you walk." Rita rested her head against his shoulder. "Seriously though, Roddy. It hasn't been that bad, has it?"

He smiled at her and took her hand. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Good," she kissed him on the cheek. "Me neither. And there's nobody I'd rather be with right now _you moronic goon!_" The shout was directed to a small boat which shot past them at high speed, darting through the packed traffic, its engine kicking up a spray of water which descended over the _Jammy Dodger II_. Roddy spluttered and tried to wipe it out of his eyes. Rita glared after the miscreant and wished she had a weapon to hand. The rider turned and looked back at them. For a moment his blue eyes met Rita's green ones, the he flashed an apologetic grin and disappeared.

"So that moment's over?" said Roddy wistfully. "All right. I'm going below to get out of the rain. Do you fancy a cup of tea? We're going to be here for a while."

Rita nodded. "Thanks. How long is it?"

Roddy shrugged. "Low tide isn't until eight and it's only one now."

"Could be some time then." Rita sighed and shook her head to dry her hair.

* * *

"Notwithstanding this business," said Roddy during dinner. "I think we've made pretty good time." The boats waiting for low tide were now so tightly packed that nobody could even try moving. The _Jammy Dodger II_ was pressed hard up against a barge made out of a packing crate lid, which was crewed by three rats of whom two were asleep at any given time. 

"Yeah, it hasn't been a bad run since Monaco," said Rita. "We should be back in a week or two."

"I said we shouldn't have stopped in Lyon," said Roddy.

"So did I," said Rita. "I said we should go through Lyon. We stopped there because my first mate, whose name eludes me for the moment, was reading the wrong map."

Roddy conceded that. "Maybe we should have asked Jasper to fly us home."

"In the _Flying Malone_? I don't think you could have fitted the _Dodger_ into the passenger seat." Rita smiled as she remembered the old inventor and his bizarre airplane.

"I'm sure he could have sorted something out. It was a pity we couldn't stay for Rhys and Sofia's wedding. That would have been quite a party!"

"We don't have a good record with parties in Monaco," said Rita, shaking her head.

"I'm pretty sure the Mafia wouldn't be at the wedding of the British Naval Attaché and the French Ambassador. Did they ever work out which one of them was going to resign in order to avoid a breach of professional ethics?"

"Last I heard they were going to toss a coin for it. And I wouldn't trust the Mafia not to turn up. Those guys were shadier than the Toad." Rita put her plate aside.

"Well, it wouldn't be so bad even if they did. I mean, my guardian angel would be there too." Roddy winked at Rita, who chuckled and smiled at him.

"Are you going to stop calling me that?

"That depends. Are you going to stop saving my life at the last possible second?" Roddy took her hand.

"If it stops you calling me a guardian angel? I might start endangering it myself!" Rita squeezed his hand gently. Somewhere ahead of them, a bell rang. The rat in the box let down the string and the front ranks of the waiting boats began moving off down the tunnel. The conversation was abandoned as they readied the _Dodger_ to follow. The leading boats of the flotilla were already out of sight.

"Pre-departure checklist," said Rita in a businesslike tone.

"Checklist ready, captain," Roddy took his place beside her.

"Check engine," said Rita.

"Engine check," said Roddy, peering at the row of gauges in front of him.

"Rudder amidships."

"Rudder amidships."

"Stowage."

"Stowage check."

"Oil pressure."

"Pressure in the green."

"Fuel?"

"I'm sorry, but did you ever do this before I turned up? I mean, I see it's important to check that the boat works but really, you'd have been talking to yourself."

"Fuel?"

"Not that there's anything wrong with that. So long as you didn't expect an answer."

"Fuel?" She smacked him cheerily upside the head. He winked and looked at the meter.

"Fuel che…oh dear."

She looked up and peered at the reading.

"How is that possible? It was nearly full!"

Roddy looked over his shoulder and saw a tell-tale shine on the water by the stern.

"I think we might have sprung a leak," he said. Rita saw it too, and ran to peer over the side. There was a paper-thin gash in the hull where the other boat had struck them. It wasn't much, but it had been done hours ago and there was no telling how much fuel had leaked out. Ignoring the chorus of shouts and horns they were attracting by remaining stationary, she called Roddy to help her patch it over. A sticking plaster did the job, but the damage had already been done.

"We're going to have to refuel," she said, going back to the controls. "Any ideas about the nearest place?"

Roddy looked at the maps. "We could make it to Calais and refuel there again."

Rita shook her head. "I'm not taking us into that port again, not after last time. Besides, we could only do it then because the Bruces were here to help."

"There's never a Bruce when you need one, is there?" said Roddy. "Well, that's the only thing I can think of. I mean, we could look elsewhere but that'd be guessing. Do you think it's really that bad? I mean, surely there's enough left to get us across the Channel. Once we're back in England we should be able to find something easily. Or talk to someone who knows where we can get some."

Rita looked at the gauge sceptically. It was just possible he was right…and it was also true that trying to find fuel in France would mean taking a wild guess which could go seriously wrong. She sighed. It was a risk worth taking.

"All right, we'll try to cross. And just hope that there's no cross-current or strong headwinds, because if there is…we'll need to hope the _Dodger_ can run on vapours."

* * *

The stars glittered coldly overhead. It was a night that deserved the description of 'crisp'. Everything seemed sharper, from the starlight to the bitter wind that was slicing down from the North Sea. Ahead of them, England was a shimmering band of light on the horizon. Rita shivered and hugged her coat tighter around her body. The fuel gauge was still reading worryingly low, and she was beginning to hope that it was the gauge that was wrong. Still, it was too late to turn back now. Roddy stuck his head out from the engine room. 

"I've checked every container. There's no more petrol here, although I did wonder whether that old orange juice would work."

"We have orange juice on board? I didn't know that!"

"I believe you," said Roddy meaningfully.

"Well, that's good. I like orange juice. We could have some with breakfast." Rita said.

"Ah, no, I don't think so," said Roddy. "With this orange juice it wouldn't be breakfast, it'd end up being the Last Supper."

"Oh." Rita paused. "It's like that is it?"

"Well, I tried to find out but it kept pushing me away," said Roddy. "Yes, it's that bad. Can we throw it overboard before it evolves any further? Fruit juice shouldn't be able to stand up by itself."

"Why not? Is that what bottles are for?" asked Rita.

"I meant _without_ the bottle," said Roddy pointedly. He went below and came up holding a cardboard container caked with mould. Holding his breath, he heaved it over the side and nodded in satisfaction at the splash.

"And good riddance. How's the fuel situation, Captain?" He went and stood beside her. She grimaced and shook her head.

"Not good. I'm hoping that the gauge is stuck and giving a false reading."

Roddy squinted at it in the dark and tapped it once or twice with a knuckle. The needle jerked in response and sank even lower. Roddy winced.

"Well, it was stuck," he managed.

"I really, really hope you just broke it Roddy," said Rita quietly. "Because if that's right, we've got ourselves a bit of a problem." She looked up. "Maybe we should cut the engines completely and see where we are in the morning. I can't navigate by night. I can't tell distance."

"By morning we could be in the Azores," said Roddy. "We've got to keep going."

Rita nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I know." She patted the wheel encouragingly. "Don't let us down, old friend. You can make it."

Roddy began unpacking a sheet of canvas from the forward locker. "I don't suppose we have a foldaway mast you haven't told me about?"

Rita scratched her nose. "There's the funnel and that's about it. What are you thinking about?"

"Rigging a sail, of course." The canvas caught on a protruding nail. Roddy heaved hard and it gave way with a tearing sound. He staggered backwards and fell over, the canvas piling on top of him. Rita watched him struggle for a moment or two before sympathy overcame her and she extracted her companion from under the pile. Roddy dusted himself off and looked up at her sheepishly.

"You're probably about to make some kind of cutting remark about what just happened. Can we just skip that bit and think about whether a sail could actually work?"

Rita smiled and shook her head. "You take all the fun out of my life Roddy. Well…I guess a sail might work. We've still got the poles from the sun shade. But the wind is coming in from the north. We'd not have much control over where it took us."

"I thought you could sail into the breeze?" said Roddy.

"You can," said Rita, who had forgotten more about seamanship than Roddy had yet learned, "although it's more sailing across it than into it. Besides, that takes a special kind of rigging and a professional crew who knew what they were doing. Francis Drake might be able to get away with it, but not us."

"My goodness, are you admitting that there's something you can't do?"

Rita nodded. "Yes. I am admitting that I am not Francis Drake. It isn't as if sewers get you much practice with sailing boats."

Roddy bundled the canvas. "Well, I'll start trying to set this up in case we run out of fuel." He stood up, not realising that he had a foot on a fold of the material, and pulled it out from underneath him.

"Need a hand there?" asked Rita sweetly. "Or would you prefer a brain?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine. And you can stop offering me body parts before you get to anything inappropriate." He picked himself up.

"Are you sure about the brain?"

"Why, do you know someone who has one?" Roddy grinned.

Rita was poised to deliver a fittingly devastating response, when the engine made a noise like a donkey being chainsawed and stopped. For a moment everything was silent, except the lapping of water against the tin hull.

"Maybe the sail isn't a bad idea after all," said Rita quietly.


	2. Marooned, but not Alone

The sail creaked in the wind. Roddy pulled a corner tight and lashed it against the funnel of the boat, wishing that they had the mechanical arm to help. But the arm was reliant on power from the _Dodger_'s alternators, and the alternators were connected to the dead engine. The canvas caught the wind and billowed out as it filled. Roddy grinned hopefully and looked back to the cockpit, only to sober up rapidly when he saw the look on Rita's face.

"You don't think this will work?"

"Oh, it'll work all right. It just won't get us home. We're being blown south-west. I knew a north wind would do this to us." She sighed.

"So should we take it down?" Roddy moved to do just that, but Rita stopped him with a wave.

"No, no, leave it. We'll be blown that way in any case. At least this way we've got some control over it."

Roddy nodded and joined her. The cockpit was lit by a single small bulb powered by the _Jammy Dodger II_'s pack of AA batteries. By its feeble light he rifled through the maps until he found one that showed the southern reaches of the English Channel. Using his fingers as a ruler, he made a few estimates with the assistance of the magnetic compass built into the dashboard.

"Well, it could be worse. By my reckoning we're being blown towards the Channel Islands. Well, at least we'll be on British soil." He squinted closer. "Not much of it, I'll grant you. It looks like we're headed for Burhou."

"Did you make that name up?" Rita looked at him sceptically.

"No, no, that's what it says here." Roddy pointed to it. Sure enough, Rita read the lettering:

BURHOU ISLAND- NO LANDING

"Do you think we can find fuel there?" asked Roddy.

"How should I know?" said Rita. "Oh, nuts, I didn't mean to be rude. But I really don't know. We should be almost at Portsmouth by now rather than stuck out here."

"Look on the bright side," said Roddy. "Columbus was relying on the winds as well. And Columbus didn't have the faintest idea where he was either."

"Didn't he?" Rita couldn't help but smile. Roddy's trivia was a blessing sometimes. It kept her mind off other things.

"He thought he'd found a short cut to the Spice Islands," said Roddy. "That was why he sailing around in the first place. He thought that they were somewhere to the left of Portugal. It didn't occur to him that there was a continent in the way. Which he never sighted by the way. He only saw some of the islands."

"So why is he so famous?"

Roddy shrugged. "I guess he had a good press secretary."

"Maybe he isn't such a good role model, then," said Rita.

Roddy finished tying the sail into position. "Well, unless some more fuel materialises in the tank, there's nothing much we can do. You should get some sleep. I'll make sure we don't run into any whales."

Rita yawned. "All right, you can take first watch. And be careful."

"What of? We've lost the engines. It isn't as if there's anything out there except the islands."

"Because you never know, Roddy. With particular emphasis on _you_." She gave him a cocky grin.

"Is Rita Malone giving me a lecture on boat safety?" Roddy raised an eyebrow and took the controls.

"You can say what you like," she replied. "My family has never had a battleship blown up beneath them."

"There's a first time for everything, captain," said Roddy innocently.

Rita laughed and stretched out on the bed in the stern. "Just watch the compass. Make sure we stay on course for Burgoo Island."

"Burhou," said Roddy.

"Exactly."

Roddy saluted. "Not a problem, ma'am! Third star to the right and straight on 'till morning!"

Rita sat up and looked at him quizzically. Roddy's grin faded slightly.

"All right, it's not important. I'll wake you in four hours."

"Good night, Roddy." Rita settled down again and closed her eyes, telling herself to relax. It wasn't much use. The boat was lost in the English Channel and there was every possibility of missing the Islands altogether and being blown further west. The best they could hope for them was to wash up against the French or Spanish coasts. Better than being swept into the Atlantic. She shivered at the thought. It wasn't that she was afraid, exactly, but everything she had done in the past had been a calculated risk. This was blind chance. Rita remembered the traffic jam, and the blue-eyed pilot who had come close to hitting them- maybe they hadn't used up all their luck yet.

* * *

Four hours passed without incident. Roddy stretched, yawned and made his way to the stern. The wind was picking up and the sail strained against the lines. Rita was curled up against the side to protect herself from the chill. Roddy touched her shoulder gently.

"Rita?"

She made no response. He shook her a little and repeated her name.

"Rita? It's time."

She moved like lightning. One minute she was asleep and giving every indication of vulnerability. The next she had a hand on Roddy's wrist and the other was balled in a fist, already drawn halfway back. Roddy started with shock and tried to duck.

"It's only me! It's only me!"

Rita blinked once or twice.

"Oh…right. Sorry about that. Must have been dreaming." She let him go. He straightened up and began trying to massage some feeling back into his wrist.

"What on earth about?"

Rita paused and tried to remember. For a moment a pair of blue eyes flashed before her before disappearing just as quickly. She scrambled to cover her uncertainty.

"Being stuck on a small boat in the middle of the English Channel with you for company," she said jokingly. "Quite nerve-wracking."

"Well, at least it wasn't a nightmare," said Roddy, grinning. He kicked off his shoes and lay down. Rita stood and moved towards the cockpit.

"Still on course, are we?"

"Oh, yes. Compass hasn't shifted. I think the wind is getting stronger though."

Roddy rolled over and closed his eyes. Rita had never woken like that before. She was always a coiled spring, but she had been much better since Monaco as if the unexpected action there had taken the edge off her. Maybe the story about Columbus hadn't been a good idea. It couldn't be easy for her being marooned on a drifting boat like this. He just hoped that his predictions about their new course were right!

* * *

Roddy was rolled out of bed suddenly and was awake before he hit the deck. There was a horrible crunching sound coming from under the boat. He ran to the side and looked down. It was a beach, if the term could be applied to a band of sharp pebbles. The _Jammy Dodger II_ was in the shallows still, and every incoming wave would pick them up, carry them a little further, and then drop them hard onto the stones. He looked up. Rita was at the controls, fighting them furiously, and the sun was creeping over the horizon. She must have been up all night!

"Rita, what on earth are you doing? Why didn't you wake me?" He joined her.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" she said.

"I meant earlier. What can I do to help?"

"A foot more water under the keel'd be nice right about now."

"Okay, and what could I do to help that might actually work?" A wave rolled in, lifting the stern and propelling the boat another few metres towards shore. They came down with a force that made Rita wince as if she could feel the impact herself.

"Just tie everything down. This is going to be a bumpy ride."

Roddy nodded and moved off to check the stowage. Rita looked up as another wave picked them up. This time they slewed sideways into it and came down hard on the starboard side. She lost her grip on the wheel as it span beneath her hands and fell, managing to grip the cockpit rail at the last second.

"Rita!" Roddy slammed the locker shut and ran to help her. She shook her head as he reached down to her.

"No! Take the wheel! You've got to turn us stern-on to the next wave or it'll have us right over!"

Roddy looked behind him and saw the wave coming. He grabbed the wheel and began struggling frantically.

"Come on! Turn, you pile of junk! Don't let us down now!"

The leading edge of the wave washed past them. The rudder finally responded, and the boat was carried into shore. A second wave piled up behind the first and the _Jammy Dodger II_ was brought to rest above the tide line, deposited safely if unceremoniously in a pile of seaweed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Rita let go of the rail and lowered herself to the deck.

"Good work, Roddy! I wonder what Columbus would say if he were here."

"He'd probably think we were in Japan," said Roddy, scanning the beach. It was desolate and empty. A little way off, a large sign stood announcing that this was indeed Burhou Island, part of the Bailiwick of Jersey and protected bird sanctuary. He panicked a little at the thought of what kinds of seabird the island hosted, but then remembered that it wasn't nesting season.

"We may yet wish we were, of course…" he said to himself.

"Pardon?" Rita was peering over the sides, looking for any damage. It appeared as if the seaweed landing had prevented the hull being much more than dented but she didn't like taking chances.

"I said we may wish we were. At least they have petrol there."

Rita straightened up. "Well, there might be some here as well."

"In a bird sanctuary?"

"Stranger things have happened, Roddy." She shrugged.

"I think I'm talking to one," said Roddy. "Do we have a plan, captain?"

"We split up. We'll cover more ground that way. We'll meet back here in an hour because it'll take two of us to carry any fuel back here."

Roddy was impressed. "You just made that up then?"

"Decisiveness, Roddy, that's the secret. Show some yourself and you might get a boat of your own one day." She winked and gathered some equipment. Rita was a firm believer that a grappling hook was applicable in every situation. If you knew what you were doing, it could get you into or out of anything. And if it couldn't get you out, the fact that it was a fairly solid piece if spiked metal was usually sufficient.

"I'll head down the beach that way. You take the other," she said. "And try not to get lost, all right?"

"I don't get lost," said Roddy defensively. "I become geographically misplaced. And never for very long."

Rita eyed him fondly.

"Keep an eye out for trouble as well. We don't know who else might be on this island."

* * *

Roddy picked his way carefully between the seaweed, enlivening clouds of sandflies which dive-bombed him enthusiastically. He waved his hands at them in a futile attempt to deter their attentions. The _Jammy Dodger II_ was already out of sight behind him, but he knew that if he kept the sea on his right, he was heading away from it. Besides, it was a small island. Eventually he'd walk all the way around it. He batted away a particularly persistent fly and looked up at the clouds overhead. Despite the early snowmelt that had caused them problems on the way to Monaco, they were a worrying shade of yellow, suggesting a heavy dumping of snow was on its way.

He tripped over a piece of driftwood and returned his attention to where he was going. The pebbly beach demanded close scrutiny. The last thing he needed now was to fall over and break his ankle- there was no telling how long it would take Rita to find him, and it didn't take much imagination to know what she was likely to say under those circumstances.

Movement on the horizon caught his attention. There were two figures picking their way along the shore towards him. Roddy dived for cover behind a mound of seaweed and tried to avoid breathing any of it in. He kept quiet as he watched them approach. It was a male and female rat, both wearing several layers of clothing to ward off the chill. They were walking arm in arm and talking to each other.

"Well, they did say they wanted to get us away from everything," said the former. He spoke with a refined English accent that set Roddy's brain whirling, trying to remember where he had last heard it.

"They said they wanted us away from Monaco," said the lady in a French accent. "It was your government that offered the use of this wonderful place."

"Was that irony, Sofia?"

"No, no, I 'onestly never knew 'ow many varieties of seaweed there were. My life would be much poorer 'ad we not been sent to this place."

Roddy's memory finally threw up a reference card. He stood up, smiling. The two walkers stopped short and regarded him suspiciously.

"Good lord! There's someone else here!" The English one stepped forward.

"Not one of ours," said the one identified as Sofia. "One of yours, Rhys?"

"That's no way to greet an old cellmate, is it?" Roddy extended a hand. "Rhys? That is you, isn't it? And Ambassador Sofia?"

Recognition finally dawned. Commander Rhys Seddon-Tavish had been introduced to Roddy during the Mafia's botched kidnap attempt in Monaco. He grinned broadly and shook Roddy's hand.

"Roddy St. James of all people! I say, I never expected to find you here."

"Neither did I," admitted Roddy. "There was a technical hitch. We were just on our way home."

"We?" said Sofia. "Oh, of course, there are two of you. I trust Rita is well?"

"She is," said Roddy. "So what are you two doing here? I thought you'd be married by now."

"We are, old man," said Rhys, showing Roddy a plain gold ring on his finger. "But after that business with the Genoese both our embassies thought it wise that we got out of the Principality."

"The British embassy generously offered us the use of this island to, what do you say? Keep a low profile?" said Sofia. "Of course, my superiors wanted to send us to the Maldives but why would anyone go to the Maldives when they could 'ave such fun on Burhou?" She smiled wryly

Roddy laughed. As a honeymoon spot, he had to admit that the Channel Island was not an ideal venue.

"So what was your problem exactly?" asked Rhys.

Roddy gestured back down the beach. "Oh, the boat ran out of fuel. There was a leak in the tank and we drifted here."

"Fuel, you say?" Rhys raised an eyebrow. "I might be able to help you with that."

* * *

Rita peered over the rock suspiciously. The coast was clear.

She had been making her way along the shore, fighting her own battle against the sandflies, when she had seen it. A small, powerful-looking boat had been drawn up on a narrow patch of sand just above the high tide mark. She recognised it- it was the same boat which had inadvertently drenched them while they were waiting in the traffic queue to get into the Channel. What could it possibly be doing here?

Not that it really mattered. What mattered was that it certainly had an engine, and engines needed fuel. Rita was not the sort of person to lose much sleep over 'borrowing' some from a boat belonging to such an inconsiderate hoon. She remembered his face, those strikingly blue eyes, and shook her head. No distractions. She crept towards the boat and began examining it for anything resembling a fuel tank. To her surprise, there didn't seem to be one. She found a latch and pulled on it, which caused a lid to slide off a compartment which was revealed to contain a bank of high-capacity batteries. Her heart sank. It was an electric motor. There was no fuel to be found here. She sighed and made to turn away.

Someone was behind her. Before she was able to respond in kind, she had been kicked in the back of knee. Her leg buckled and she dropped like a stone. Rita rolled instinctively and kicked out with her own feet. They connected with nothing but the air, but the sudden counterattack kept her assailant at bay for a second. She scrambled up and made to run.

"Don't move!"

Rita couldn't help but grin at that. Yeah, right, she was suddenly going to do what she was told by this guy!

"I said don't move! Don't make me shoot you."

That got her attention. She paused in mid-stride and turned around. Her breath caught. It was the boat's pilot, the blue-eyed speed rat from the queue. Up close he was devastatingly good-looking in a very conventional kind of way although currently his face was stamped with an expression of suspicion. The threat hadn't been idle. A homemade rifle- a sawn-off pen with a spring compacted and held in place by a trigger mechanism- was being levelled at her. The projectile appeared to be a small ball bearing. At anything resembling long range it would be comically useless but over short distances it could hardly miss.

"All right, you win," she said, holding up her hands. The armed rat relaxed slightly.

"Tell me your name," he said.

"Tell me yours first," challenged Rita. He frowned at her for a moment.

"Sergeant Valentine. InterPol," he said.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That's quite a surname to be stuck with." Rita flashed him a cocky grin.

"I meant I'm _with _InterPol." He extracted a plastic card from his pocket, on which was drawn the agency's emblem. "And you haven't told me who you are."

"Rita," said Rita. "And you haven't told me why you're here."

"True. The thing is, though, that I don't have to." Valentine put the weapon aside. "That was you, wasn't it? Back in the traffic jam?"

"Yes. And I know it was you back there as well. What did you think you were doing driving like that?"

"Trying to get past you, of course. I'm sorry, did I get you a little wet?"

"A little? Not exactly." Rita crossed her arms and glared.

"Ah, well. I'll assume you were looking to steal some fuel from my boat. Or rather, I'll assume you weren't, since I'd hate to have to arrest you." Valentine smiled.

Rita fought down a strange urge to smile back. "All right. Well, since you know what I'm not here for, maybe you should try telling me what you're not here for?"

Valentine shrugged. "It's a bit of a long story."

"Are you in a hurry to go anywhere?" Rita tapped her foot.

"Well, as a matter of fact- and please remember that I don't have to tell you any of this- I'm looking for someone. Two people, in fact. The British Naval Attaché to the embassy in Monaco, which is to say the _former_ naval attaché, and the French Ambassador to the same."

"You mean Rhys and Sofia? Why do you need to find them?"

Valentine was momentarily taken aback. "How do you know them?"

Rita smiled. "It's a bit of a long story."

"And one I am sure I'll hear later. Since you know them I can probably be more frank with you. They were sent here after the incident with the Genoese Mafia. But there was…a miscommunication. They're not out of danger. In fact by coming here they might have walked into more of it than they know."

Rita stared at Valentine's serious face.

"You think the Mafia will try to kidnap them again? Here?" She had no fond memories of the Genoese Mob. But Valentine shook his head.

"Not the Mafia. But perhaps someone as dangerous. Tell me, have you ever heard of a criminal gang leader known as…the Toad?"


	3. Friends and Enemies

"Hello, Rita," said Roddy cheerfully, waving to her from the side of the _Jammy Dodger II_. "Guess who I found?"

"Commander Rhys Seddon-Tavish and Sofia de Lesseps?" suggested Rita. Roddy stared at her open-mouthed.

"How could you possibly-?"

"I made a friend as well," explained Rita. She gestured to a blue-eyed rat who was following her along. "This is Special Agent Valentine of InterPol. He's looking for Rhys and Sofia. And we have a very big problem."

"I know. I didn't find any fuel either." Roddy eyed the newcomer with faint suspicion.

"Bigger than that," said Rita, with feeling. "Are they with you?"

Roddy nodded and called them over.

"Good to see you again, Rita," said Sofia warmly. "I am so pleased to see that you are well."

"Hello, old thing," said Rhys. Rita nodded to them.

"Glad to see you both again. How was the wedding?"

"The wedding was beautiful," said Sofia. "But I am reserving judgement on the 'oneymoon."

Rhys grinned and rolled his eyes. Valentine stepped forward and saluted.

"I can't say that it's going to get much better, ma'am. I have some bad news."

"What could it be?" Rhys was puzzled.

Roddy looked over to Rita and was shocked by the grim look on her face. Something must be seriously wrong.

Valentine continued. "If you remember the World Cup, a plot to destroy the capital under London was narrowly averted."

"Yes, I think I can recall reading about that," said Roddy sarcastically. Rita shot him a warning look.

"The instigator of that plot was a mastermind known as the Toad," said Valentine.

"He didn't seem that bright to me," said Roddy. Valentine ignored him.

"Following the World Cup, he was brought into custody and sentenced to exile where he couldn't do any more damage. It was quite hard to find a suitable place because no other countries were willing to deal with him. As a result, he had to be isolated on British territory."

Roddy had a nasty feeling he knew where this was going.

"He was sent here," said Valentine. "Burhou Island was thought to be as far removed from anywhere as possible. It was believed that he couldn't cause any trouble here. All we had to do was keep people away."

Rhys was stunned. "Why were we sent here then?"

"Crossed wires," Valentine shrugged. "It happens. The Toad's location wasn't meant for public knowledge and InterPol is very good at keeping secrets even from the diplomatic corps."

Roddy tried to catch up. "So the Toad is here? On this island? With us? Now?"

Valentine nodded.

"Well, he can't be much of a threat, surely?" Rhys looked up. Sofia was pacing the deck in clear agitation.

"The plot has thickened considerably," said Valentine. "Which is why I'm here. There is a fuel pipeline running across this island. It supplies the needs of the humans living on Alderney Island nearby. We believe that pipeline to be under threat from the Toad."

"What makes you think that?" asked Roddy.

"We received information from French authorities regarding the activities of a fugitive called Le Frog." Valentine's mouth twitched with distaste. "He was caught trying to smuggle himself aboard a ship heading for Alderney. He was released as he had committed no crime, but everything seems to be pointing towards a new plot."

"But Le Frog was very 'elpful to us in Monaco," said Sofia. "I did not know 'e was a criminal."

"Le Frog serves Le Frog," said Rita. "I'm sorry, Sofia."

Rhys shook his head. "So you think there's foul play here?"

"Yes, but we don't know details. That's why I'm here to investigate. Commander and Madam Ambassador, I must ask you to leave this place. It's too dangerous."

"I wouldn't leave even if we could," said Rhys defiantly. "This sounds like you might need our help. As a commissioned officer of Her Majesty's Fleet, I simply won't allow myself to miss out on the fun. Out of duty, naturally." He winked at Roddy, who tried not to laugh out loud.

Valentine blinked. "You…can't leave? But how did you get here?"

"We flew," said Sofia. "Rita, I am sure you'll be pleased to know that Jasper 'as got that contraption of 'is working much better. It 'ardly crashed at all getting 'ere."

Rita smiled at the news. "Are the Bruces still with him?"

"I think the Bruces are a permanent condition," said Sofia, laughing.

"So it's settled then," said Rhys happily. "Everybody stays and we all join forces to beat this Toad wallah."

Valentine tried to argue. "Sir, I really can't allow that! I'm under orders!"

"What was your rank again, Mr Valentine?"

"Sergeant of police, sir. Special Agent by secondment." Valentine drew himself to attention.

Rhys nodded. "Well, I'm a Commander of the Royal Navy and a stubborn fool by nature. Isn't that right, darling?"

"It is true," affirmed Sofia, smiling.

"Thank you," said Rhys. "So, _sergeant_, like I said. It's settled."

* * *

"You flew out here with Jasper?" said Roddy.

"Oh, yes. He and the Bruces have that crate purring like a kitten. But that is a problem as well." Rhys pulled a face.

"What do you mean?" asked Roddy. Rhys grinned and opened his mouth to say something. The ambassador cut him off.

"Kittens don't fly, Roddy," said Sofia wearily, in the tone of someone who has heard a joke before and wasn't impressed even then. "'E thinks 'e 'as a sense of 'umour sometimes."

Roddy laughed. "I'm amazed it got here at all. Is that how you're getting back?"

"Yes, he's coming to pick us up. Sofia's embassy promised to cover all his costs. They meant fuel and food, but Jasper thought that gave him a licence to modify the old bomber from stem to stern. Or is it front to back? I was never good with planes."

"I think you mean, nose to tail?" suggested Roddy.

"Just so," said Rhys. He looked over the side. Valentine and Rita were talking in low voices. "He's a dashing one, that."

"Jasper?"

"Our Agent Valentine there," said Rhys. "Top notch character I'd say. Pity he didn't join the Service. We could have done with him in Monaco, eh?" He laughed. "Of course, we could have done with the _Ark Royal_ too!"

"We managed all right," said Roddy.

"Yes, thanks to Rita. You're a fortunate chap to have her around, Roddy. And I think you're not the only one who notices that." Rhys winked. Roddy was taken aback.

"Rhys! You can't mean?"

"I'm happily married, old chap, don't worry about me. But I'm not the only devilishly good-looking uniformed type around here."

"Valentine?" Roddy stared.

"I 'ave to say, 'e is very good-looking," said Sofia. "Women like men in uniform." She poked her husband. "Although for the life of me I cannot think why."

Roddy looked over the side again. Rita was still talking to Valentine. Was it his imagination or were they standing a little closer than strictly necessary? He shook his head and tried not to think about it.

* * *

Valentine regarded Rita with amazement.

"He was the one who stopped the Toad the last time? I heard about the frozen wave but I never saw it myself."

Rita nodded. "He'd tell you it was a joint effort but it was really him."

"Well, if I'd known! It's an honour to meet both of you. I should probably say something to him." Valentine looked up at Roddy, who was peering down at them. Roddy seemed to flinch and turn away.

"I wouldn't," said Rita. "He's…well…modest."

"Still, it was a brave thing to do." Valentine looked up and caught Rita's eyes. She felt her heart skip a beat and mentally kicked herself for feeling like this around Valentine. She didn't even know him! More importantly, she did know Roddy. This had to stop.

"Is that how the two of you met?"

"Sorry?" she said, distractedly.

"I'm sorry, I assumed that was how you met Roddy."

"It was. Well, not exactly. That's a much longer story and you wouldn't believe me if I told it to you."

Valentine nodded. "I thought so. I probably shouldn't have asked. I don't want to step on anyone's toes."

"What do you mean?" Rita frowned. Valentine glanced up and Rita almost shied away under the sapphire stare. _This is ridiculous! I can't feel like this, it's not right. Roddy would never forgive me. I'd never forgive me. Good grief, next thing you know I'll be fluttering my eyelashes and falling over a lot…_

"Nothing. Don't worry. Listen, I'm going to go back to my boat to collect some things. I'll meet you back here in half an hour." Valentine smiled politely and left. Rita watched him go and looked up. A seagull whirled overhead, dipped its wings and flew inland.

* * *

The Toad turned away from the seagull and muttered darkly to himself. There wasn't much fun to be had on this joyless speck of rock in the middle of the English Channel, and now things were getting too complicated. The plan had to work and having all these creatures- rats, he reminded himself with a shudder- was bound to cause problems. He turned back to the gull, which was eying him in a bored fashion.

"You can't do anything about them, I suppose?" he said to it. "No. Of course not." Why was it getting so hard to be a respectable gang boss these days? Even the dullard hench-rats he had been forced to employ in the sewers were better than the white-winged beings which constituted Burhou's usual population. It had taken some time for him to convince the gulls to let him lead them. This hadn't been easy, since the usual relationship between seagull and toad tends to be short, but Burhou Island was not an exciting place even for seagulls and the strange green creature had seemed to be an interesting diversion. The chief gull glanced at his colleagues, who were clustered around, watching the Toad walk up and down in approved super-villain style. Something clearly had to be done, but what?

The fuel pipeline to Alderney ran across the ground nearby, held up by rusting brackets. A maintenance shed, long since disused, stood to one side. The Toad threw open the door and marched inside.  
"I've been here too long," he said to himself. "Denied my destiny, denied my birthright. Discarded by the country I served for so long! Well, they'll pay. They'll all pay." He looked around and the dingy place which had been his home since the World Cup and sighed with disgust. Bad enough to be reduced to this, but now to have to share his island with rats? It was too much. His eyes focused on a cobweb-encrusted crate that had been pushed into the shadows in the far corner. Faded stencilled lettering read VEREY FLARES-ALL COLOURS-RED FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY.

An evil smirk spread over the Toad's face. Maybe there was a way to dispose of these interlopers. A brass Verey pistol lay nearby, and the start of a plan began taking shape in the Toad's mind. Now chuckling darkly, the Toad went to a storage cupboard and opened it.

"Patience," he said to the contents of the cupboard. "Soon we will have our opportunity. The glorious amphibian dawn will come. Daddy promises."

* * *

He beamed down at the row of jars. The tadpoles beamed back, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

The sun was going down, and it was already bitterly cold. Roddy had cleared a patch of seaweed and a small fire burned merrily in the lee of the _Jammy Dodger II_. Rhys and Sofia were sitting together, taking it in turns to hold a pin on which was roasting a cashew nut. They passed it between them as it got too hot for one to hold. Valentine was poking at the fire with a stick and trying to get a small amount of water to boil without much success.

Sofia withdrew the nut and blew on it a couple of times to cool it down before taking an experimental bite.

"Not bad if I say so myself," she said. "I mean, this is not exactly _haute cuisine_ 'ere but still, this is not bad. Where did you come across them?"

"We picked them up in Nice," said Roddy. "It's been difficult finding a way too cook them though. You can't boil them or use a stove. And Rita refused to let me light a campfire on her deck."

Rhys laughed. "She can be uncooperative sometimes can she?"

"Uncooperative nothing," called Rita from the boat. "What I said was that if Roddy wanted to use my deck to cook some nuts he should use his own."

Rhys choked on a mouthful of cashew and looked to be in serious trouble until Sofia hit him on the back. Even Valentine looked a little worried.

"My own _deck_, is what she meant," said Roddy severely. "Honestly, you say something entirely innocent and look at how people react."

Rita threw a small plastic cylinder overboard. It landed near the group by the fire. "That's the last of them. We should probably try to finish them tonight. They haven't kept that well since Nice, although I think we threw out the one which turned green. I'm sorry, did I say something wrong, Sofia?"

The ambassador was sitting quite still with a look of horror on her face. Her eyes flickered between Rita and the cashew she had just taken another bite out of. Rita sighed.

"I was joking, Sofia, I was joking. It wasn't really turning green."

"Thank 'eavens," said Sofia, swallowing uncertainly.

"It was more a kind of mossy brown. That was a joke too, by the way. No need to look at me like that, I'm not a completely classless bum."

Roddy laughed. "I wouldn't have called you a bum,"

"Oh, just completely classless? A little respect for your captain wouldn't go amiss!" She flicked his ear. Roddy rubbed it, still grinning.

"Well, I'm paying as little as possible aren't I?" he said. Rhys and Sofia laughed. Valentine chuckled at the look of feigned irritation that Rita put on her face. He picked a nut out of the box and impaled it on a spike.

"How have you two lived on one boat for so long without throwing each other overboard?" he said.

"Roddy spends a lot of time overboard," said Rita.

"I think he meant deliberately overboard," said Roddy helpfully.

Rita rolled her eyes and sat down halfway between Roddy and Valentine. Rhys cocked an eyebrow and traded glances with Sofia at this development. Roddy noticed it too and tried to pretend that he hadn't.

"How long were you planning on staying here?" he asked Rhys.

"Oh, not long. In fact if everything goes to plan, Jasper and his flying circus should be arriving tomorrow evening."

"Which probably means the day after," said Sofia. "I do not trust that machine of 'is. Fortunately it is a short flight back to France."

Rita watched Valentine trying to roast the nut. The metal spike had no handle and rapidly heated up. He yelped and dropped it, blowing on his hands. He looked up and noticed Rita's gaze.

"I'll get the hang of it one day," he said, smiling. "They didn't include this in basic training, funnily enough."

"I might have to teach you myself," said Rita, with a giggle. Roddy stared at her in wonderment. Nothing made her giggle. Why was she suddenly acting five years younger? He glanced across at Rhys and remembered the Commander's earlier words. He couldn't possibly have been right…

"Is she a good teacher, Roddy?" said Valentine.

Roddy bit down hard on the comment he was about to make, which gave Rita time to cut him off.

"After teaching Roddy, Valentine, you'd be easy. Is your name really Valentine?"

"Yes. My sister was called Easter and my brother's name is St. Patrick. We're a festive family." He grinned disarmingly. Roddy stuck a nut in his mouth to avoid saying something he might end up regretting. He stared at the fire and tried not to think about the exchange. Was he paranoid or was Rita really acting like this? He thought about the note she had written him after the events in Monaco and wondered whether he had been right to keep it.

There was a distant sound, and a brilliant green light rose into the sky from somewhere inland. Trailing smoke, it exploded in a flash that caught everyone's attention.

"Who could that possibly be?" said Rhys. "There's nobody else here except us."

"Nobody except…the Toad," said Valentine darkly.

"Why would he be sending up flares?" said Roddy.

"I don't know, but we should find out," said Rita, standing up. "It might not even be him, but if it is, I want to know about it. Come on, let's investigate."

Roddy stood up and prepared to go with her.

"Not you, Roddy, I meant Valentine. You have to stay here and look after the boat. If the Toad knows we're here he's bound to go after it."

Roddy gaped. "But Rita, I can't just let you go off alone!"

"I won't be. Valentine's coming too. Right?" She looked at him. The InterPol officer glanced from Rita to Roddy and appeared to reach a decision.

"Uh…right. Sure. No problems. Someone reliable has to stand guard over the Ambassador and the Commander, Roddy. They can't be allowed to come to harm."

"We're standing right here, you know," said Rhys conversationally. "And we can take care of ourselves. Look, if Roddy wants to go with you-"

"What if something happens to us?" said Rita. "No. Roddy, you stay and keep watch. We'll be back soon."

Roddy gave up. "All right, all right. But be careful. I don't want to have to send in the cavalry because you've gone off on a bender trying to impress someone." He tried to avoid implying that he knew who she might be trying to impress. Roddy moved to touch her shoulder, but she picked up the pin Valentine had dropped, kicked the cashew off the end, and began to head off into the gathering dusk.

"Go on, then," said Roddy to Valentine, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone. The officer shrugged helplessly, and followed her.

* * *

"Never do that again," said Valentine casually.

"Do what?" Rita picked her way through the tangled vegetation where the shore met the island proper.

"What you just did to Roddy. Don't think nobody noticed."

"Noticed what?" she turned on him, hands on hips.

"Why did you ask me to come with you?" he said.

"Because you know what you're doing. Rhys is nice enough and handy with a sabre but I don't think we'll win points for gentlemanly conduct, Sofia can't fight at all and Roddy is a liability sometimes." Rita kept her tone businesslike, but was afraid that she knew where this was going to end up.

"Listen, I said earlier that I didn't want to tread on anyone's toes. This is what I meant. I can see how Roddy feels about you and I'm pretty sure you feel the same way about him or he wouldn't dare express it." Valentine's blue eyes didn't waver as he spoke.

"He doesn't express it!" Rita glared. "He never does! He just assumes that I know! And I do know, but it'd be nice to hear him say it!" She stopped and wondered where that outburst had come from. She was happy with Roddy, she knew that. He was everything she could have asked for, and more. So why did she feel like this inside? The answer wasn't hard to find. It was Valentine, she knew that. He was enough to turn anyone's head, much as she hated to admit it. Rita bit her lip and cursed herself. What if she had hurt Roddy with her behaviour? It was out of sorts, she knew…he'd know that too, right? But if he didn't…

Valentine blinked. "Okay, well, that touched a nerve I wasn't aiming at. All I'm saying is that there were two of you before this business and there'll be two of you after it as well. I'm not involved. Clear?"

Rita nodded, still too busy thinking to voice a reply. A second flare rose into the night sky and burst above them. Valentine traced its path down to the ground.

"We must be close now. We'll have to move quietly." Valentine moved off. Rita looked back to the shore, as if contemplating going back to Roddy, and shook her head. That would have to wait. How was she going to explain this to him?

Overhead, but terrifyingly close, a seagull gave a raucous cry that made her blood freeze. She looked around just in time to see the white wings enveloping her. As she hit the ground, she could hear a familiar voice laughing at her.

"Well, hello Rita!" said the Toad, from atop the seagull. "It's been far too long…"


	4. Search Party

Somewhere in France, Jasper walked around the front of the _Flying Malone_, his customised model Lancaster flying machine.

"If you keep doing them circles, mate, we'll end up with a ditch," said Bruce. Jasper had long since given up trying to tell the two Bruces apart. "Or a moat."

"Shouldn't you be working out where we are?" said Jasper.

Bruce waved a map. "Done it, mate, done it. We're some place around here." He pointed, and frowned in concentration before turning the map the other way around. Jasper rolled his eyes.

"Never mind. Where's your friend? He should be back by now."

Bruce shrugged, pulled his jacket around him and looked up, where a large glowing BP sign cast a green and white light across the scene. To Jasper's irritation, the _Flying Malone_ had come down somewhere near Le Havre with its fuel tanks running dry. Despite long hours of work, the best efforts had failed to improve the Lancaster's fuel efficiency which was marginally worse than that of its real-life counterpart. It had been sheer luck that he had been able to land the dying plane on the flat roof of a service station, so at least petrol was close to hand even if actually getting it was proving a problem. Bruce One had volunteered to go and get some, and a length of twine hung over the edge of the roof to the tarmac below. Humans were coming and going at a leisurely pace and Jasper could hear the sound of their vehicle engines. He sat on one of the new floats they had attached to the _Flying Malone_. Turning the aircraft into a seaplane had been one of his better ideas although it was a matter of necessity since one of the Lancaster's tyres had exploded after a Bruce had attempted an emergency landing and come down harder than expected.

"We'll never make it to Burhou at this rate," said Jasper. "Sofia and Rhys are counting on us to be there on time."

Bruce jumped down from the wing and patted the old rat on the shoulder.

"Between you, me and the plane, mate, I don't reckon they're expecting punctuality. Besides, it's their honeymoon. We wouldn't want to interrupt them prematurely, would we?" He leered suggestively.

"That's not the point. How can we build an airline with a reputation for reliable service if we can't even pick up our only two customers on time?" Jasper waggled a severe finger at his offsider.

"If we've only got two customers, don't you reckon the name 'airline' is a bit much?" observed Bruce.

Far below, the other Bruce was rolling an empty Coca-Cola can along the tarmac and singing a version of _On the Road to Gundagai_.

"There's a rat with a plane,

A pity he's got no brain

Along the road to Gundagai…"

He spotted a likely-looking Renault and steered the can towards it, whistling tunelessly. A human opened the car door and nearly stood on him. He ducked around frantically and darted under the human's car. He stood the empty can on end and looked around the chassis speculatively. He spotted what looked like a fuel tank, and drew a nail from his belt. He punched it hard, and grinned when a small jet of petrol came shooting out of the punctured tank. Whistling his song, he moved the can under the stream and leaned against it, waiting for it to fill up. A few minutes passed, and then the car started up with a deafening roar. He threw himself to the ground and covered his ears. It drove off, and Bruce regained his feet and began pushing the full can over to the string. He tied it on, sat on top of it, and pulled the string twice. There was an answering tug, and both rat and can began ascending haphazardly.

"There've got to be easier ways of doing this, mate," said Bruce, when he got to the top. The other end of the string was tied around one of the Lancaster's propellers, which the other Bruce was using as a winch. Jasper had a funnel ready and was opening up the plane's tanks. Bruce stepped onto the roof as the lip of the can drew level before turning around and hauling the heavy vessel the rest of the way.

"Blasted thing won't fit," muttered Jasper, who was trying to wedge the funnel into the tank.

"No need for that, mate," said Bruce Two. He produced a length of rubber tube. "Siphoning is the way to go."

They fuelled up the _Flying Malone_. Bruce Two clambered back into his seat behind Jasper, while Bruce One gave the can a swift kick, and watched with satisfaction as it rolled to the edge of the roof and fell. There was a clatter from below and a human's voice was briefly raised in shock.

"Can we go now please?" said Jasper in a strained tone.

Bruce One nodded and took his seat.

"Contact!" Jasper punched the ignition and all four engines spluttered into life. He took the brakes off and pointed the plane northwards.

"Runway clear!" shouted Number One Bruce above the thunder of engines.

Jasper nodded and opened the throttle. The plane leapt joyously into the sky. He adjusted his goggles and turned northwards towards the English Channel. Maybe they'd be on time after all!

* * *

"It's been too long," said Roddy agitatedly. He was pacing up and down by their little camp. It was symptomatic of his feelings that he had neglected his fire which would have burned out some time ago had Sofia not taken stewardship of it. She dropped another bundle of twigs onto the coals.

"Stop worrying, Roddy. She can take care of 'erself, remember?"

Roddy paused for a moment. That was true, but along with the survival instincts of a leopard, Rita also possessed a lemming's capacity to require every bit of it. And she was acting strangely as well. Maybe her usual sense of judgement wasn't as sharp as it usually was.

"Yes, yes you're right Sofia. And Valentine seemed like he could look after both of them." He stopped and realised what he had just said. "By which I mean," he added hurriedly, "If they get into trouble." _No, that isn't what I meant. Pull yourself together, St. James. We're talking about Rita here. Rita! Loyalty would be her middle name, if she had one. _

"Don't worry about them, old man," said Rhys calmly. "I'm sorry about what I said before. I don't want to put ideas into your head that don't belong."

Roddy glanced up. It was true that it had been Rhys who had drawn his attention to Rita and Valentine, but he'd seen enough to support his own doubts independently.

"I still don't like it," said Roddy. "We should go looking for them."

"But how? Someone has to tend the fire. In the darkness it'll be the only way to find our way back here." Rhys waved at it.

"I can do that," said Sofia.

"You want to be left on your own? You heard what Valentine said!" Rhys was surprised.

"Well, I know you weren't going to volunteer to stay 'ere and I know Mr St. James isn't going to rest if 'e thinks Rita is in danger. Who did you 'ave in mind?" Sofia raised a defiant eyebrow. Rhys opened his mouth to object and then reconsidered.

"Yes. Yes. All right, that's a good point. But be careful. Don't start any fights."

Sofia smiled innocently. Rhys sighed.

"Lead on, Roddy! I daresay you've still got some cold steel in that boat somewhere?"

Roddy frowned. "Well, probably, but the hull's mainly tin…"

"I meant your sword, my dear chap," said Rhys patiently. "You never know when you might have to use it on someone."

Roddy nodded. He hadn't drawn August St. James' old sabre since the fight against the Genoese Mafia. The weapon was still hanging up in the cupboard below decks. He collected it and dropped back onto the beach. Rhys was helping Sofia pile up a stack of firewood and he looked around at Roddy's approach.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," said Roddy, firmly.

Rhys nodded. "Then we shall depart! Take care, Sofia." He waved goodbye to his wife and set off after Roddy.

* * *

Rita opened her eyes and almost immediately wished she hadn't. The simple movement attracted a lot of attention from the crowd of seagulls that towered above her on all sides. Squawking noisily, they clustered in closer, yellow beaks clacking menacingly. She was tied to a stake which had been driven into the ground. The bonds were narrow but firm- probably wire of some kind- and she struggled against them painfully.

"I wouldn't bother," said Valentine. He was nearby, attached to another stake.

"What the blazes happened to us?" demanded Rita.

"Search me," said Valentine. "All of a sudden the lights went out. Don't bother trying to break those bonds, by the way, they're copper. You can't even stretch them, let alone snap them."

A seagull screeched at Rita so loud it actually hurt. She glared at it until it went away. A second screech but off all the noise, and another gull came into view. It was larger and older than the others, and in bearing and manner was presumably the chief of the flock. Riding on its back, however, was the real problem.

The Toad dropped to the ground and smiled patronisingly at Rita.

"I thought we would never meet again, my dear," he said sarcastically.

"Hello, handsome," shot back Rita. "For once I wish you were right."

The Toad ignored the insult. He jerked a thumb at Valentine.

"I can't say your taste has improved, Rita. Wasn't your last boyfriend a waiter? And now a policeman, dear oh dear." He chuckled nastily.

"That 'waiter' handed you your cashews on a plate last time," snapped Rita, reminding the Toad of the World Cup plan. "And the policeman is _not _my boyfriend."

"Of course he isn't. But who is he, I'm wondering?" The Toad turned on Valentine and loomed over him. "What business does he have here on my island?"

"Your business," said Valentine. "With the authority vested in me by InterPol, I am arresting you-"

The Toad burst out laughing. "Here you are, tied to a stake, at the mercy of a pack of ravenous gulls who answer to me alone and you're saying _I'm_ under arrest! You overstate your chances, my arrogant little flatfoot."

Valentine glared.

"You've been hanging out here too long, Kermit," said Rita. "You've gone…bird-brained." She grinned. The Toad was not amused.

"Like Napoleon on St. Helena, I was sent here to waste away. But I shall return and show them all that they were wrong!"

"Napoleon _died_ on St. Helena," interjected Valentine. The Toad hesitated.

"Like Napoleon on Elba, then!" he declared. Rita rolled her eyes.

"So you're still hanging out for your own little Hundred Days?" she said.

"You know what happened in those Hundred Days, don't you?" said Valentine nastily. "Does the word 'Waterloo' mean anything to you?"

The Toad narrowed his eyes. The seagulls closed in again.

"You're not in a position to mock anybody right now. I assure you, Rita, although the ice machine is no longer mine to command, there are other ways to dispose of rodents."

The chief gull lowered his head and looked at Rita with an expression somewhere between pity and contempt- the expression of a predator. She looked into its disturbingly yellow eye and knew that whatever absurdities the Toad was tossing about, here was an opponent not to be trifled with. The chief gull was neither Spike or Whitey, and Rita almost found herself longing for the days when a vengeful mob of hench-rats was her only concern.

_Not your only concern, though. That was always the family, remember? And remember why that isn't the case any longer?_

The Toad wandered over to the Verey pistol which he had wedged into a cleft rock and patted the stained brass fondly. He reached behind it and pulled out a red cartridge, which he slotted into the breech.

"I wonder if your companions are looking for you by now?" he said patronisingly. "I think they would be. You vermin are so drearily predictable like that." He snapped it shut and jumped down, disengaging the safety catch as he did so, and kicked the trigger hard. The pistol tipped over, fell to the ground, and fired the red flare horizontally. There was a flurry of panicked squawks as a group of gulls scrambled to get out of the way. The flare hit a rock and ricocheted into the sky, leaving nothing but thick coloured smoke and the smell of burning feathers behind.

"Good shot," said Rita cheerfully. "A couple more like that and we can go home, right Valentine?"

Valentine cast her an amused look. "I really was impressed that you and Roddy beat him before. Now I'm beginning to think that Inspector Clouseau could have done the job!"

The Toad stopped coughing and glared at him.

"You won't be laughing in a minute. Your companions will have seen that and they are surely on their way! I'm afraid I will have to…disappoint them." He turned to the assembled gulls, some of which were eyeing the Verey pistol suspiciously.

"Bring them!" He snapped his fingers and jumped back onto the chief gull, who relayed the order to his flock. Rita and Valentine found their stakes jerked violently out of the ground by strong beaks, and they were carried precariously along by the bizarre procession, which headed inland.

* * *

Roddy looked up at the flare as it rose and burst in a halo of scarlet.

"That one was close," said Rhys from behind. "You heard the shot as soon as you saw the flare so the sound didn't have to travel very far." He paused and untangled his sabre from a tuft of grass. "You really think it's this Toad person?"

Roddy watched the descending flare carefully. "I don't know. I didn't even know he was here until Valentine told us. But I can't risk the chance that he is. He won't have very pleasant memories from the last time we met."

Rhys caught up with him. "I never really found out what happened with all that business. Of course, I was in Monaco at the time so I missed all the fun."

"There wasn't much fun to be had," said Roddy, remembering the World Cup. It was still difficult for him to believe that it had been him who had done that, confronting the Toad and Le Frog as the wave bore down on them. Of course, he hadn't been alone. Rita was there as well, and if the truth had to be told Roddy wasn't entirely sure what he would have done had she not been. Between them, though, they had defeated the amphibian's plans. Roddy hoped that they could do it again, if it came to it. But what good was he without her?

Rhys noticed the look on Roddy's face and patted him on the back.

"Cheer up, sir! It might not be him. Anybody could be sending up those flares."

"That…wasn't what I was thinking about…" said Roddy quietly. Rhys looked at him sympathetically.

"I know. And you shouldn't worry about that either. I've been around a bit, I know how to read people. Rita is yours as much as you are hers." The Commander nodded seriously. Roddy looked up.

"You think so?"

"I know so, old sock."

"Then what's with…" Roddy waved a hand. "Oh, I know it's stupid and that I shouldn't even think about it but really, what's she playing at with Valentine?"

"That's nothing. He's a decent-looking chap and that's all there is to it. If I was that way inclined, I'd probably make Sofia nervous around him!" Rhys grinned in an entirely unsuccessful attempt to inject some humour into the conversation. He sobered up.

"Look Roddy, you have to trust me on this. And you need to trust her as well. She wouldn't do that to you."

Roddy shrugged. "I know! I know, that's what makes it hard. I know she wouldn't and I still can't get rid of these thoughts, which makes me feel guilty on top of everything else! And I don't know what to do about it!"

He turned away, waving his arms as he spoke. Rhys touched him on the shoulder again.

"I said that she was yours as much you are hers, didn't I?" he said quietly.

Roddy nodded.

"Well…does she know how much that is?"

Roddy paused and stared at Rhys.

"Well…of course she does. I…wrote her a note." Even as he said it, he realised it sounded more than a trifle inadequate. Rhys nodded sadly and smiled.

"It takes more than a note, Roddy. Take it from a chap who just left his job to marry the one he loves. You can't leave these things on autopilot and just assume that they know as much as you do."

Roddy looked down. Rhys had a point, because while he played the toffy British officer most of the time, he was also an astute reader of people. But surely Rita knew? Okay, so the Paris note was getting old now, but after everything they'd been through together since then, how could she doubt his feelings for her? Had he expressed them right? A new feeling of shame reared in his mind. Maybe it was all his fault…

"It isn't" said Rhys. Roddy looked up suddenly, wondering just how good the officer was at reading his mind.

"No, I can't read your mind," Rhys went on. "But only a blind man in the dark wouldn't be able to read your face right now. We've got a job to do if we're to find them."


	5. Opposing Plans

Jasper peered over the side of the _Flying Malone_'s cockpit.

"We've got to be over the coast now!" he shouted, pointing to the narrow strip of lights now passing under their tail. Ahead of them there was the total darkness you only get over water at night.

Number One Bruce nodded.

"I reckon you're right, mate! Not long now!" He pulled their map out of its plastic pocket. The wind tore it out of his hands and it blew back along the fuselage until it was fielded by Number Two Bruce, who was tying down a loose flap of canvas that had torn free from the biplane wing. He waved it happily. Bruce One gave him a thumbs-up sign and turned back to Jasper.

"This car petrol's doing all right, isn't it? We might be onto something here!"

"We'll have to wait for the Grand Prix to come back!" replied Jasper. "Monaco goes crazy every year with those cars! That's the real high-octane stuff. I can't wait to try it!"

"All right, but if we're going to start using that stuff I reckon you should be the one who steals it!" Bruce grinned. "I don't like the idea of knocking a hole in Michael Schumacher's petrol tank!"

The other Bruce joined them.

"Do we even know what we're looking for out there?"

"It's an island!" shouted Jasper. "How many can there be?"

"Have you even looked at the map, mate?" said Bruce Two.

"Of course I haven't, I've been too busy flying! That's what you two are here for!" Jasper squinted into the darkness.

"Hear that, Bruce?" said Bruce, grinning. "And I was thinking we were here to provide stimulating conversation."

"No worries, Bruce," said the other Bruce, grinning as well.

"So you actually don't know where we're going?" said the first Bruce.

Jasper shook his head. "I imagine there'll be a signal of some description."

"You _imagine_?" Bruce scratched his head. "Do you want me to fly this thing, mate, while you sit back and imagine some other things?"

"We don't have that kind of in-flight movie, Bruce," said Bruce Two, leering. Jasper turned in his seat and stared at him until he looked away innocently.

"Look, there'll be a fire! Or something! Maybe flares, I don't know, but Rhys and Sofia will have to figure something out or they know we can't find them!"

"_Maybe_ flares?"

"Hang on, what's that?" Bruce Two looked ahead.

"Yes! Maybe flares! Maybe fire! Maybe an embossed invitation from Whitehall! I don't know!" Jasper kept shouting at Number One Bruce, who responded in turn.

"This is why I said we should do this in daylight! We can't see anything at night!"

"Mates? There's something down there." Bruce Two pointed but was ignored.

"Don't you think I can land this safely in the dark?"

"I_ know_ you can't land this safely in the dark!"

"Oh, that's rich! What happened to the front tyre again when you tried to bring it in?"

"That wasn't me, that was Bruce!" said Bruce, defensively.

"Whatever! I'm not having you making us late by getting us lost!"

"Oh, the bloke who hasn't read the map is worried about getting lost! Look, mate, this punctuality thing of yours is a little obsessive!"

"Punctuality is good manners!" snapped Jasper. "Which I can see are a bit scarce around here!"

"I don't care if they're as scarce as rocking-horse manure! I'm saying-"

"Would the two of you stop going off like a frog in a sock and listen for a second?" shouted Bruce Two. They did so.

"What?" they said in unison. Bruce Two pointed ahead. Jasper followed his finger. The eye can see a surprisingly long distance at night, and sure enough, out in the dark sea, a small light flickered invitingly.

"Could that be it?" asked Jasper.

Bruce One consulted the map. "Well, it's in the right direction! I can't judge distance for buckley's in the dark though."

"Then we'll assume it is!" Jasper altered course towards it. "I told you it'd work out! A nice easy approach, a nice easy pick-up, we'll be on our way back sure as Robert's your mother's brother!"

"My mother didn't have a brother," said Bruce Two.

"He's speaking metaphorically," whispered Bruce One.

"Oh. No worries then."

* * *

The seagulls dumped them unceremoniously in the dirt and snapped away their copper bindings with their sharp beaks. Rita stood up as Valentine tried to get the feeling back in his hands. The Toad dropped off the chief gull's back and sauntered towards them.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he said. "My circumstances alas, are much reduced but they suffice for my simple needs."

Rita's eyes took in the rickety old maintenance shed and the weather-worn metal of the fuel pipeline, which stretched out of sight on either side. Well, at least she knew where they could get some for the _Jammy Dodger_ now!

"Suits you," she said.

The Toad bristled. "My plan does not require a sumptuous surround. Night always comes before the dawn…even the glorious amphibian dawn!"

"The what?" said Valentine. Rita rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock sadness.

"That old guff again? Give me a break, Kermit, you ain't got nothing out here. It's just a cold, windy rock in the middle of nowhere."

"Very perceptive of you," said the Toad. "But that isn't the genius of my plan. I think your new friend might be able to elaborate. Tell the ignorant rodent where this pipe goes, policeman."

Valentine paused before replying. "It carries fuel to the island of Alderney. But what was this about a glorious-"

"Oh, you'll see." The Toad laughed. "Humans are so dependent on what flows through this pipe. If the fuel should ever stop flowing…they would have little choice but to leave Alderney. And that is where I come into the picture."

"You'd be leaving too?" suggested Rita.

The Toad ignored her. He enjoyed explaining his brilliant plans to people, and the seagulls, obedient as they were, were not a very appreciative audience.

"When I was exiled to this dump, I brought my family with me," he said.

"How are you going to stop the flow through the pipe?" asked Valentine.

The Toad gestured to one of the support brackets. Red cylinders were wrapped around it.

"The humans have been their own undoing. With the things they leave behind, I will destroy their own pipeline!" He laughed at the irony of it. "When the fuel has drained out of this pipe, it would be a simple matter to fill it with water and thus repopulate Alderney with my own kind! The light of the amphibian dawn will rise over the English Channel!"

Valentine sniggered. "You think that'll work? You think that the humans won't come to fix the pipe?"

The Toad turned on him. "What do the humans know of our struggle? They don't know what happened in Ratropolis. They don't know anything! By the time they have worked out what happened, my plan will be complete. Alderney will be the undisputed amphibian capital of the world!"

"Many other places competing for the title, are there?" said Rita.

The Toad looked at her. "It's a pity that you won't be around to see it, my dear."

"I'll be around to see plenty," Rita shot back.

The Toad chuckled. "Oh, I don't think so. You see, you'll be here when the pipeline is blown. You'll be…very close to it. It's a shame you won't get to see my glorious victory, which you thwarted in Ratropolis with that other rat-creature. I would have looked forward to washing your family away with the rest of them! But for now, this will be enough." He lowered his voice mockingly. "They'll never know what happened to you, Rita. They'll never find you. 'Where is Rita? Where did she go? What became of her?' They'll ask themselves questions for the rest of their lives!"

Rita snarled and leapt at the Toad. A wing buffeted her to the ground before she got close. She struggled to rise, but the chief gull stood over her. If birds could growl, it would have done. Instead it made a ridiculous whining noise, the humour of which was belied by the ferociously sharp beak it issued from.

"Rita!" Valentine leapt forward as well and was immediately brought down by three lesser gulls. The Toad watched their struggle with every sign of enjoyment.

"I almost wish I could keep you alive," he said. "Tie them to the pipeline! Make them secure!"

He looked up. A seagull which had been circling high above can come in to land and squawked its report to the chief gull. The Toad listened intently.

"The others are coming?" he said.

The chief gull nodded. The Toad grinned gleefully. Everything was falling into place!

* * *

Roddy banged his knee on something hard. He fell over awkwardly with a cry of surprise. Sitting up and rubbing his knee painfully, he looked at what it was. A brass cylinder lay on the ground, partly obscured by the grass. A cleft rock sat nearby, as did a small pile of what looked like spent cartridges.

"What on earth is all this?" he said.

Rhys helped him up and looked the cylinder over. He pulled aside some grass, revealing a polished wooden handle and a trigger.

"It's a flare gun. Verey, if I'm any judge. I remember these from my Navy days!"

"Aren't you still in the navy?" said Roddy.

"Yes, I am! So I remember them very well!" Rhys grinned. "Useful things, these." He inspected it. "I think we found our firework launcher."

Roddy looked around. There were three more cartridges in a hollow nearby, unused. He picked them up and carried them across his chest. Rhys watched him carefully.

"What are you doing?"

"They might be handy," said Roddy, indistinctly. "Well? You told me to bring my sword along didn't you?"

"Yes, but that isn't this!" Rhys pointed from the sabre to the flare gun.

"There's no such thing as too much firepower," said Roddy.

Rhys grinned. "For someone who isn't in the Service, my dear fellow, you have an astoundingly good grasp of its principles! Good show!" He heaved the Verey pistol over his shoulder, the barrel trailing in the dirt behind him.

"Try not to drop those," he said, nodding to the cartridges in Roddy's arms.

"You don't want to go down in a blaze of glory?" joked Roddy.

"If even one of those cooks off we'd be going _up_, not down."

Rhys laughed. Roddy, despite the tension, did so as well. Whatever they were walking into ahead, whatever danger there might be, they would be prepared for it. There were seagull tracks on the ground, dozens of them. Roddy began following them.

* * *

Sofia de Lesseps dumped the last of the wood on the fire and looked around, wondering whether seaweed would burn. She doubted it. The tide was coming in, and the water which had once been in the distance was now almost lapping at the _Jammy Dodger II_'s propeller. It was turning out to be as eventful a honeymoon as it had been a proposal! She hoped that the InterPol officer was wrong, though. And she hoped that the others were all right- Valentine could probably take care of himself. Rita was the most indomitable creature Sofia had ever met. Dear Rhys lived a charmed life, of course, and young Roddy had more than a little of that himself. She hoped that he was all right inside as well- the comments about Rita and Valentine had clearly hit him hard. Maybe she should go looking for them…

Sofia looked up as she heard the sound of engines approaching. It didn't sound like another boat, but who could it be? She picked up Valentine's rifle and wondered how you used it. Presumably the fact that you carried it was the most important part. Hopefully an intruder would pay enough attention to that bit of the equation to spare Sofia having to fill in the rest of it. The engines grew louder and louder, as if approaching at speed from a great height. There was a sudden rush of wind, the smell of exhaust fumes, and Sofia caught what sounded like a snatch of conversation in the slipstream.

"-told you it was too bloody fast!-"

She threw herself to the ground as something shot past just a few feet over her head. The rifle went off, firing its ball bearing projectile into the side of the _Jammy Dodger II_. It bounced off the hull with a sound like a bell and buried itself in the sand near Sofia's foot, where it stuck. She stared at it in shock. The engine noise came closer again, this time from a different direction but just as low. She ducked involuntarily as it passed overhead. There was the rush of slipstream, a gust of exhaust and again, a handful of barely-audible words.

"-around from the sea-"

She looked around as the noise changed pitch. It headed out to sea and then grew closer again. Finally it cut out altogether shortly before there was a loud splash somewhere in the shallows. Sofia watched the object approaching, tracking it by the white water its floats were throwing up. Finally it grounded in the sand, and stopped dead. Someone fell off it with a splash. Sofia relaxed as she recognised the familiar outline of the _Flying Malone_.

Number One Bruce surfaced, spitting water, and waved to Jasper.

"In the water, mate! You said we'd land in the water!"

"Well? You're in the water aren't you?" said Jasper, cheerfully. "And the floats worked a charm! Hello, madam ambassador, it's good to see you." He nodded to Sofia as she drew near. Bruce waded ashore while Jasper and Bruce secured the plane and joined them.

"Bit of a rough landing, that," he said conversationally.

"It is nice to see you," said Sofia. "Was it a difficult flight?"

Bruce gave her a you-really-wouldn't-believe-me-if-I-told-you look. Sofia nodded.

"Okay. Fair enough."

"Sorry we're a bit late," said Bruce. "We ran out of fuel, didn't we Bruce?"

"We did that," said the other Bruce. "Tanks were drier than a dead dingo's donger back then."

Sofia stared for a moment, trying to work out what part of a dead dingo the Australian was referring to. Then she decided that she didn't really want to know.

"As a matter of fact, you 'ave arrived at the best possible time," she said.

Jasper smacked Bruce One up the back of his head. "See! I told you! Punctuality makes perfect!"

"Ow! That was Bruce you were arguing with, not me!" Bruce smoothed his hair back into place.

"Close enough," said Jasper.

"That was not quite what I meant," said Sofia. "'Ow soon can you take off again?"

Jasper wrinkled his nose. "Any time, your excellency. Just give us a tick to turn her about and get her off the sand. Why? And where's Rhys? And is that Rita's old tub sitting on that pile of seaweed?" He stared at the _Jammy Dodger II_, taking in his surroundings.

"There is a long story 'ere," said Sofia. "And I will tell you. But you must ready your machine for flight at once. We may not 'ave much time!"

Jasper detected the seriousness in her voice.

"All right, milady. You two, get the _Malone_ ready!" He waved to the Bruces, one of whom was trying to wring out his ears. They stared at him.

"Now!" he shouted. They threw him a pair of salutes and went back to the plane. Jasper turned to Sofia and raised an eyebrow.

"So, what was this long story?"

* * *

Following the gull tracks had been easy. Roddy looked over the rock he was hiding behind, hoping that the view had improved. It hadn't. Rita and Valentine were there all right, surrounded by a noisy flock of gulls. And the Toad was there as well, if Roddy was any judge, although the shabbily-dressed amphibian was not very similar to the well-dressed overlord of the sewers he knew before. Rita and Valentine were tied to a bracket supporting the pipeline, along with a bundle of ominous red objects which Roddy couldn't identify for sure, but had a sick feeling about anyway. Rhys joined him, propping the Verey pistol against the rock.

"Bit of a sticky wicket, isn't it?" he commented. "Still, I think we can take them."

"There's dozens of them!" said Roddy.

"Well, yes, but they've only got two legs which can't kick, their wings are for flying and their beaks will be too busy screaming to do anything." Rhys grinned. "Don't worry. We were outnumbered at Trafalgar as well and Nelson did a reasonable job there."

"Nelson isn't here," said Roddy.

"No, but I am, and that'll have to do."

Roddy couldn't help but grin at the cocky statement. "So who am I?"

Rhys regarded him. "I'd make you Flag-Captain Hardy, but that means you'd have to kiss me when I get killed heroically. So you can be Admiral Collingwood."

"And the Toad?"

"Admiral Villenueve, of course," said Rhys. "And if any of those gull wallahs is called Lucas, I want you to bring it down before it can get me."

"Not feeling very _Redoubtable_?" grinned Roddy, naming the ship from where a French sharpshooter had put a bullet into Nelson's spine.

"No, but I could do with a _Victory_," said Rhys, referring to Nelson's flagship. "In the event, this will have to do. It's not exactly a sixteen-inch breechloading rifle, but it should suit our humble needs." He patted the Verey pistol. Roddy passed him the three shells he had collected. Rhys loaded one and squinted down the barrel, muttering about windspeed and shot-drop.

"Do we have a plan?" said Rhys.

"You pull that trigger," said Roddy, drawing his sword. "And I go and get them."

"What happens if one of these featherbeds comes after you?"

"You've got two more shots here, haven't you?" Roddy's voice brooked no argument. Rhys grinned.

"Simple and to the point! Nelson couldn't have done it better himself. All right. You get as close as you can. I'll start the show as soon as you stand up or someone spots you."

Roddy nodded grimly and set off in a crouch. It was now or never. He felt the fear rise in his heart, and then remembered why he was doing this. He couldn't let her down.

* * *

Rita pulled against the copper ties again, and kept straining until they bit into her flesh painfully.

"Stop that, would you?" said Valentine. "That pulls it tight on my side as well you know."

"Well I'm sorry for trying to get us out of this!" snapped Rita. "Honestly, for a police officer you're not much use in a bad spot."

"What do you want? Should I call in a Special Weapons unit?"

"I mean _you_ should do something!" Rita turned her head but couldn't see him to glare at him. "I can't believe I brought you! I thought you knew what you were doing! I can't believe I ever imagined that you'd-" She cut herself off.

"What was that?" Valentine sounded distracted. He was shifting around as if trying to shake something out of his sleeve.

"I…nothing. I was about to say…well…I can't believe I found you…interesting." Rita bowed her head. "You were right. And you were right about Roddy, and I'm sorry for that as well. But you can't seriously stand here and wait to be blown to pieces!"

There was silence for a moment. Then Rita felt something poking into the small of her back.

"Take this," said Valentine.

Rita's hands closed around a metal object. She felt its serrated edge. It was a small file.

"How did you-?"

"I'm not as useless in a bad spot as you thought," said Valentine.

"Why don't you use it on your own hands?" Rita got to work on her own bindings.

"Because from where I am, I think the Toad can see me from the shack," said Valentine. "And if one of us is going to survive, it should be you."

"What?" Rita stopped for a moment.

"You've got Roddy. I've got my duty. I know which one I'd pick." Valentine rested his head against the bracket. "You've got to stop him, Rita. I can arrest him, but I think it'll take something more permanent to keep the Toad down."

Rita was silent. Then she began rasping the file back and forth.

"You make it sound like you've nothing to live for," she said.

"I've got plenty to live for," said Valentine. "It's just that you've got more. Besides, if I let you die, I don't want to be the one who has to tell Roddy."

* * *

Rhys crouched over the Verey pistol. Roddy was an indistinct shape near the clustered gulls. It was impressive how close he had managed to get, but he would soon be forced to break cover. He took the safety catch off the pistol and aimed it at the gulls. They were standing dangerously close to Rita and Valentine, and Rhys shuddered to think what would happen if he put a shell into the explosives they were strapped to. He brushed the thought aside and concentrated. Ahead of him, he saw Roddy rise ghost-like from the grass and wave to him.

"All right," said Rhys to himself. "Let's start the show." He muttered a brief prayer, and pulled the trigger.


	6. The Last Minute

The gulls were surprised by the sudden gunshot, but not half as surprised as they were when a blue flare, spitting sparks, rocketed towards them. They scattered, many taking wing and ascending into the sky even as the first light of dawn began breaking.

Rita winced as the blue flare shot past her, close enough for her to smell the cordite. Whoever fired that shot was either very good or very lucky. She looked around at the confusion. The Toad was bellowing orders to the gulls, but her attention focused on a black-clad figure who was running across the open ground towards her.

"Roddy!" Her heart leapt. It was just like the World Cup- Rita had almost despaired to surviving that until Roddy had turned up to save her at the last minute.

Roddy ran over to her.

"Rita, we've got to get you out of here!" He cut the copper with his sabre and turned to free Valentine, who shook his head.

"No time! No time! Stop him!"

Roddy looked up. There was a fuse trailing from the explosives towards the shack. The Toad was running back along it, a box of matches under his arm.

"You won't win!" he shouted. "Now I'll just kill you all right here!"

Roddy took Rita's hand and they set off after him. The chief gull screeched an order and a group of his birds swooped down on the running pair. There was another gunshot, a hiss, and the attacking gulls scattered as a green flare shot through their formation. Roddy looked back. Rhys had moved the gun into a better position and was already slamming the last cartridge into the breech. The officer noticed Roddy's gaze and waved.

"Piece of cake old boy! Just like they taught us! Targets marked, bearings matched! Gun ready!"

Roddy laughed at the irrepressible Rhys, but knew that he had one shot left. They would have to finish this now.

"It's over, Toad!" he shouted. "Drop them!"

The Toad turned, match poised to strike.

"It's not over yet!" he said. "The glorious amphibian dawn will come today!"

"Over my dead body!" said Rita defiantly.

"That was the general idea!" The Toad laughed and lit the match. Roddy and Rita lunged, but were too late. The fuse was ignited and began burning rapidly towards the pipe. Valentine had succeeded in freeing one of his hands, and was furiously working to free the other. Roddy looked from the Toad, to Rita, to Valentine, and made a decision.

"Take this!" He pushed his sabre into Rita's hands.

She stared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You have to cut the fuse, and that's the only thing that'll do it! Go!" He pushed her away and turned back to the Toad. "You and I have some unfinished business!"

The Toad laughed. "You defy me now?"

"I'll defy you any time I like! Now come on, let's finish this!" Roddy balled his fists and moved in. Rita was running back down the fuse, trying to overtake the spark. Finally she made a desperate dive, and the razor-sharp sabre severed the fuse scant inches from Valentine's feet. The InterPol officer finally pulled his hand free and looked down, shocked at how close he had come to a fiery death. Rita stood shakily.

"You did it!" said Valentine.

Rita shook her head. "I've got to save Roddy!" She picked up the sword and began running back. Valentine saw Roddy and the Toad and took off after her. As he ran, he looked up as a shadow passed overhead. It was the chief gull, and he was diving hard on Roddy's unprotected back.

* * *

Rhys tracked the gull's arc, took an educated guess at where it was going to be, and opened fire. The last flare was a red one, and it described a brilliant path through the air just ahead of the diving bird forcing it to pull back and come around again. Rhys nodded with satisfaction and drew his own sword, ready to join the fray, when he felt a rush of air behind him. A second gull, one he hadn't seen, had landed and was coming after him. He fended off its ravenous beak with his sabre and forced it back into the air. Dropping the weapon, he began heaving on the Verey gun, hauling it around.

The gull landed again, opened its beak in an enraged cry, and attacked. This time, however, it felt something jam hard into its mouth. Something hard, round and metallic. Rhys had stuck the muzzle of the flare gun into the bird's face, and it had come close to eating it. He grinned and pulled the trigger. There was a dull _click_ and both rat and bird were frozen for a moment as they worked out what had happened. Rhys cursed himself. Of course- only three shots.

"Sorry about that, old thing," he said apologetically. He proceeded to kick the seagull, which wasn't a very fast thinker at the best of times, very hard in what he hoped was an appropriate place. It folded up like a large white beach umbrella, vindicating his choice of target. He dusted his hands in satisfaction and picked up his sword again.

* * *

Roddy flailed wildly at the Toad. The amphibian was several times his size, but clearly not used to close-quarter fighting, especially against an opponent who was powered by pure rage. Roddy landed numerous blows, but the Toad's enormous frame absorbed them without apparent effect.

"It's not over, rat!" bellowed the Toad, defending himself furiously.

"It's over all right!" screamed Roddy, lashing out. "It's all over! And I'm taking you with me!"

"Roddy!" Rita called from behind him. She was approaching with Valentine, Roddy's sabre shining in his hand as the sun came over the horizon. It was dawn- perhaps not the glorious amphibian dawn, but there was plenty of time for things to go horribly wrong. Rita was trying hard not to panic- Roddy appeared to have gone seven sheets to the wind and she was desperately worried that he might get himself hurt- or worse. This couldn't be because of her, could it? Valentine looked behind him as he heard a screech from above. The chief gull had circled back and was diving again.

"Rita! Get down!" He leapt and brought her down. The gull swept by overhead, so close that his tail feathers brushed Rita's shoulder blades. She looked up desperately as the huge white creature scooped up both Roddy and the Toad and bore them skywards in its feet.

"Goodbye, rodent!" shouted the Toad to Roddy. "It's a long way down!"

Roddy kicked out in frustration, but failed to connect. The island fell away beneath his feet until he could see all around the coast. His head span with the sudden rise but anger kept him focused.

"You won't get away with this!" he said.

"You couldn't think of something more original, could you?" laughed the Toad vengefully. "I can't say I'll miss you!"

Roddy gritted his teeth in rage. Frustration boiled up inside him, compounded by the fact that he knew he was helpless. The gull flew higher above the Burhou and prepared to drop Roddy onto the unforgiving rocks. Down below, Rita looked up in desperation. Valentine and Rhys watched with open mouths as the distant figure struggled against the gull's iron grip.

"Farewell, you disgusting creature!" The Toad's voice was gleeful. Roddy looked up at the mighty gull. There was no way out…and then he heard a familiar sound. The sound of engines, approaching at high speed.

There was a thump, and a cloud of feathers drifted towards the ground.

* * *

"I said _under_ it, not _into_ it!" shouted Sofia.

Jasper brushed the feathers out of his goggles. The windscreen was cracked, the nose badly dented and one of the engines had died, but other than that everything seemed all right. The _Flying Malone_ had handled worse.

"Well, we're still alive aren't we?" he said. "And I don't think that gull will be going anywhere fast!" he laughed and pointed below, where a white dot was spiralling into the sea.

"That wasn't the point! We were trying to save them! That gull was carrying someone!" Sofia shook the mechanic by the collar. "I swear, if you just got any of them killed-"

"Hey! What the hell's that?" It was one of the Bruces, peering over the side. He pointed to the port float. There was a figure hanging onto the struts, but there was a second, larger figure hanging onto the first.

Roddy St. James gripped the strut with the strength of the possessed and glared at the Toad, who was hanging onto his trousers.

"You lose!" he screamed. "Just admit it! You've lost again!"

"Never!" The Toad tried to claw his way up, grabbing at Roddy's tail. A spanner bounced off the wing and pinwheeled past his head. Roddy looked up and saw the Bruces hanging over the side of the plane, throwing things down at them.

"Betcha I get him first Bruce!"

"Your money's mine Bruce!"

An oily rag flew past and wrapped itself around the Toad's face, blinding him. He flailed at it with one hand, the other remaining tight on Roddy's trousers.

"Take 'em off mate!" shouted Bruce One. He paused. "I never thought I'd have to say that to another man."

Roddy looked back at the Toad. It was the only chance. Letting go of the strut with one hand, he undid his belt and kicked his legs frantically as Jasper put the plane into a dive. The added speed, along with the Toad's weight, did the trick. Roddy scrambled onto the wing and watched the Toad falling away, still clutching at his trouser leg. The amphibian's eyes remained fixed on Roddy's as gravity finally caught up with events and took him away. There was a faint cry of dismay on the winds and then the Toad was gone, falling away and trying desperately to use Roddy's trousers as a parachute.

Roddy breathed a sigh of relief as Jasper levelled out and the shrieking wind died away. One of the Bruces helped him aboard.

"You're about the last person we expected to find up here, mate," said the Bruce.

"You're not the only one surprised," murmured Roddy. "Hello, Bruce. And Bruce. And Jasper. And Sofia." He was surprised at how normal he was able to force his voice to become. The adrenaline was already wearing off and being replaced by the fuzzy endorphin high you only get when you're tired beyond sleep.

The ambassador turned around and smiled. "Did we get 'ere in time? Jasper is so keen on punctuality these days."

Roddy smiled and laughed. "Yes. Perfect timing." He looked over the side. Jasper brought the plane low over the pipeline and executed a daring victory roll. Roddy waved to the three figures that were watching from the ground.

* * *

Rhys watched the _Flying Malone_ circle back out towards the coast to land. He saluted it and smiled to himself. That was a fortunate coincidence and no mistake! He turned to Valentine.

"Case closed, sergeant?"

Valentine nodded. "I'll have to secure the pipeline, take the explosives off it. But yes, I think that covers it. Bar the paperwork of course."

"There's always paperwork," said Rhys. "But that's not the important part. Is it, Rita? Rita?"

Rit was still watching the plane as it headed out to sea. There were tears of relief in her eyes.

"No," she said. "That's never the important part."

* * *

Roddy waded ashore, still trying to forget the sound of rushing wind. Behind him, Jasper and the Bruces secured the _Flying Malone_ in the shallows before rowing ashore with Sofia in the yellow life raft they carried under the wing. Roddy could have waited for that, of course, but he was in desperate need of some _terra firma_ and decided that if he ever left the ground again, it would be too soon. He looked around the beach, and headed for the _Jammy Dodger II_.

"Roddy!"

He looked up. Rita was running down the beach towards him, followed by Rhys and Valentine. Rita threw herself at Roddy, hugging him tightly, as the others caught up. Rhys and Sofia embraced warmly.

"I can't believe you're alive," said Rita, stroking Roddy's face as if half-convinced that he was a ghost. He smiled and took her hands in his.

"Neither can I," he said.

Rita looked down and laughed. "Although I can't say you're looking your best right now."

Roddy glanced down and remembered that he had left his trousers with the Toad. He blushed and tried to pull his shirt down over his underwear.

"Ahah, sorry about that. I'll just…I'm going to…I'll be back in a minute!" He boarded the _Jammy Dodger II_ and disappeared below. Rita shook her head, still smiling, and turned to Jasper.

"And what are you doing here, uncle? Turning up at the last minute again?"

"Oh, please, don't mention the time again!" groaned Bruce Number One.

Jasper grinned. "This is what I have to put up with these days, Rita. Things like this add spice to my otherwise-boring life."

"I can't imagine it'd be boring for long," said Rita. She hugged her old friend and shook hands with the Bruces. "I never thought I'd be as glad to see you as I was in Monaco. I guess I was wrong."

"I'd have thought you'd be used to that by now," said Roddy, rejoining them. He was wearing his Royal Navy dress trousers, the only other pair he had with a belt.

Rita grinned and put her arm around his waist. "No, I just thought I'd try something new for a change. You seem to be so good at it, so I was hoping you'd give me lessons."

Valentine coughed. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but…I think I should be going."

"Why?" Rita looked at him, but she kept her arm tight around Roddy. Valentine shrugged.

"Well, it's over isn't it? Mission accomplished. I need to report in or they'll wonder where I've been. Madam Ambassador. Commander." He bowed to Sofia and saluted Rhys. Then he offered Roddy his hand. Roddy looked at it for a moment, and then looked up. There was no deceit in his blue eyes. He took the hand and shook it warmly.

"Thank you," he said.

"It's an honour to meet you. The hero of Ratropolis. I hope Rita knows how lucky she is to have you with her." Valentine's voice was as honest as his eyes. Roddy felt a fool for ever thinking…what he had thought about him.

"Well…thank you. Again, that is." He smiled weakly.

Valentine smiled and turned to Rita.

"A pleasure meeting you," he said. He shook her hand in a businesslike fashion.

"Nice meeting you," she replied. Valentine nodded to her and waved to the company. He turned and set off down the beach to his own craft. They watched him go until he was out of sight.

"Well," said Rhys eventually. "I guess that's that."

"Yes," said Roddy. "Thank you. For everything. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Forget me, any duffer can pull a trigger! It was you, Roddy, and don't pretend otherwise." Rhys shook his hand. "I hope the next time we meet, nobody has to rush off to do any last-second heroics though."

"You're telling me," said Roddy, with feeling.

"We'll be here a while yet, actually," said Jasper. "It'll take time to fix the plane. Seagulls are harder than they look."

They all laughed. White feathers were still sticking out of the Lancaster at strange angles and the fuselage panelling showed more than few dents.

"We weren't leaving now anyway," said Rita. "We've got to get some fuel, remember?"

Roddy laughed. It seemed so long ago that finding some fuel for the _Dodger_ had been their only concern on Burhou Island.

"I seem to remember an entire pipeline of it somewhere around here," he said.

"Any idea how to get it?" smiled Rita.

"Well, we have the Bruces," said Roddy. "The world's experts on siphoning. Isn't that right?"

"Too right, mate," said Bruce One happily. "Bruce, get the tube."

The other Bruce grinned and went to get the length of rubber out of the plane's stowage.

"Nobody sucks better than us," said Bruce confidently. "Sorry, did I say something funny?"

Rita was shaking with the effort of suppressing laughter. She waved a hand. "No, no, I'm sorry. Never mind."

Bruce eyed her carefully as the other Bruce returned with the tube. Rita collected a selected of tin cans from the boat and passed them around to carry the fuel back in. The little group set off again, leaving Jasper to tend to the _Flying Malone_.

* * *

"That could have been worse," said Rita, as she and Roddy walked together at the back of the column.

"I shudder to think how," said Roddy. "Rita, I'm sorry if I've been…a little strange recently. It's just that-"

She stopped and put her can down.

"It was stupid really," went on Roddy uncomfortably. "And I'm embarrassed that I even thought it, but-"

Rita pressed a finger to his lips. "Not now," she said softly. "Later. There'll be time for all of it later."

She shouldered the can again. "Come on! Keep up!"

Roddy smiled, shook his head and followed. The sun had risen, making the clouds glow as if from inside. It wasn't the glorious amphibian dawn…but from where he was standing, as dawns went, this one wasn't bad.


	7. Homeward Bound

The _Jammy Dodger II_ floated in the shallows. Ropes led from its railings to the frame of the _Flying Malone_, which bobbed about a little way off. The group had gathered on the _Jammy Dodger II_'s deck to share the last leaves of tea. Cans of fuel stood around the deck as Rita removed the funnel from the tank and put it aside.

"Can't fit any more. We'll keep the rest though. No sense letting it go to waste."

"That's the spirit," said Jasper. "Waste not want not. Everything comes in handy eventually."

"Everything?" said Bruce.

"With one or two notable exceptions," said Jasper, pointedly. The Bruces gave him a thumbs-up sign.

"Do you think the Toad's really gone?" said Sofia.

Roddy shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I saw him fall, but we were so high that he might have gone into the water and survived. Mind you, I had my mind on other things at the time. The people on the ground would have had a better view. Did you see anything, Rita?"

Rita shook her head. "I was too busy keeping my eye on you, Roddy. You got yourself into a bit of trouble there for a minute."

"My sincere apologies," Roddy grinned. "Next time I'll try to do it closer to the ground."

Rhys looked back to the island. Burhou looked as deserted as it had ever been. A few seagulls flew high overhead but they seemed to be giving the little squadron a wide berth.

"I tried to follow his fall but I lost him about halfway down. I couldn't say where he ended up. Even if he is still out there, he can't do anything."

"He'll find a way," said Rita. "People like that don't give up. To put them down you have to put them out. You know what I mean?"

"I think I know someone who fits the profile, yes." Roddy poked her. The others laughed. Jasper looked up at the sky.

"I'm sorry to insist on the time," he began. The two Bruces groaned theatrically and pretended to fall over. Jasper ignored them. "We probably should take off. We need to use the daylight while we've got it. My _navigators_ aren't very good at night."

"I'm fine at night, thank you," said Bruce One indignantly.

"Me too," said Bruce Two. "We got here, didn't we?"

"Thanks to Sofia's fire, yes. Without that we could be in Cornwall by now."

"Which is why, mate," said Bruce One, "I said we should only fly by day."

"At the cost of arriving on time?" said Jasper indignantly.

"I'd rather arrive at all!"

The argument resumed and got quite heated until Rita, rolling her eyes, emptied a bucket of water over the combatants.

"Not on my boat, gentlemen! We do have standards around here. Don't we, Roddy?"

"Absolutely, Captain!" said Roddy, snapping to attention. "And as soon as someone tells me what they are, I shall endeavour to adhere to them!"

Sofia laughed. "Well, 'e is probably right. It is sad to part from you two again, but at least we are able to do so in 'appiness once again."

"Yeah, it hasn't been bad has it?" Rita shook the ambassador's hand fondly.

"She wasn't the one who lost her trousers," pointed out Roddy. "But sure, it could be worse. There might be snakes on here or something." He shook Sofia's hand. Rhys saluted him, grinning.

"We make quite a team, St. James! A pity we keep having to prove it."

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this," said Roddy. "Some honeymoon you must have had."

"Not another word about it, Roddy. I wouldn't have sat this one out for a million sterling!" Rhys shook his hand. "And goodbye to you too, Rita. You'll need to keep two eyes on him in future. He's a perilous type, that one!"

Rita smiled. "I will. I hope your flight goes well."

"It will," said Jasper. "And it'll be on time as well. All right! No need for that!" he added, as he saw Rita fingering the handle of the bucket again. "If you see your old dad, tell him…tell him I'll try to fly out for Christmas."

Rita nodded. "He'll be glad to hear it."

The five rowed back across to the Lancaster and cast off the ropes. Roddy and Rita watched the engines fire up and the _Flying Malone_ gathered speed, leaving a trail of white water, before lumbering into the sky. Jasper waggled the wings in farewell before turning back towards France.

* * *

Snow began falling fitfully. There was no wind and the flakes drifted down in perfect silence, melting almost as soon as they touched the water. One landed on Roddy's nose as he stood up in the cockpit and he sneezed, brushing it off with the back of his hand. 

"Bless you," said Rita. She was lounging in the pilot's chair, making the occasional course correction with her feet. England was a dark landmass ahead of them and the Channel Islands were out of sight behind. Roddy was glad of that.

"Thank you, your holiness," he said, bowing. "If you were wearing a signet ring, I'd ask to kiss it."

"I'll tell you what you can kiss," said Rita, grinning.

"No, no, I'm fine with the signet ring if it's all the same to you." Roddy looked at the fuel cans lining the stern. "Well, we got more than we came for back there, didn't we?"

"In more ways than one," said Rita, seriously. "We'll probably have enough left over to sell once we get back. The money might be useful after a holiday…"

"We're not even there and you're already talking business?" said Roddy, surprised. "We're not home yet. Officially, we're still on holiday. Not that being on holiday has been exactly relaxing so far."

"Force of habit. Sorry." She looked back over the sea.

"I wasn't serious." Roddy looked at her. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, apologies aren't your strongest suit. And we're not dead and we've got the fuel, so what else is there?"

"Us, Roddy." Rita said the words quietly and then winced. This wasn't a Mills & Boon production, but at the heart of every cliché is a fundamental truth. She went on. "But I have to say this. I'm sorry. For what I was like back there. With Valentine, I mean…"

"Two apologies in one day? Don't make a habit of it." Roddy smiled as he spoke, but his tone showed his seriousness. He sat back down again and looked at Rita, who was looking profoundly downcast. At least she gave a small smile at the joke.

"Don't worry, this is the last time I'll have to do it," she said. "Seriously, though. I don't know what made me act like that. I would never…do that to you. You're the last person in my world I'd ever hurt. You know that, don't you Roddy?"

He took her hand and nodded. "Of course I do. And…" he took a deep breath and remembered what Rhys had told him. "And I…I love you more than I can say. You know that too, right?"

She looked up in surprise. Those weren't words that would have come easily to him. Roddy shrugged. "Rhys gave me some good advice when we were looking for you. He was right, of course. I don't say it often enough."

Rita's eyes softened and she smiled. "There's something very wrong with you, Roddy St. James. I'm the one who's meant to be doing the apologising around here, not you."

"You want to clap me in irons and hang me for mutiny, captain? Go right ahead."

Rita laughed. "Really, though. You shouldn't be apologising for anything. I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am. Very sorry." Her voice trailed off.

"I know. It's fine, Rita. Don't feel bad." He stroked her hand. "Leave all that on the island. We're going home now."

She finally met his eyes. "It's been quite a trip, hasn't it?"

"It might not be over yet," said Roddy. "Still plenty of things for you to run into out there."

She poked him. "For the record, the other boat ran into us, not the other way around."

"True, but I don't think threatening to board them was a good idea either!" Roddy poked her back. Rita laughed.

"Maybe I should have asked Jasper to fly escort until we get back! I can't be too careful with you!" She retaliated. Roddy tried to dodge and fell out of his seat, getting himself wedged hard between the seat and the cockpit side. He struggled for a moment like a beetle on its back and gave up, looking at Rita beseechingly. Stifling laughter, Rita stood up and offered him a hand.

"Thank you," Roddy pulled himself up and dusted his sleeves.

"You see what I meant?" Rita gently brushed his shoulder. "Rhys also told me to keep two eyes on you. Maybe he was right about that as well." She slipped a hand around his waist, pulling him closer, and smiled.

"Good old Rhys," said Roddy quietly. He kissed her. Another snowflake drifted onto his nose and he sneezed again and broke the spell, but by then it didn't matter.

"How did Valentine know I was…what did he say? The hero of Ratropolis?" Roddy smiled. "I know I didn't tell him that.'  
"I did," said Rita.

"_You_ said I was the hero of Ratropolis?"

"I didn't use those words, exactly."

"I can imagine. You did tell him it was a joint effort though, didn't you?"

"One day, Roddy, you're really going to have to take some credit for that."

"It wouldn't have worked without you! It wouldn't have worked without Le Frog either, come to think of it. Or at least not without part of him."

"Roddy, Le Frog's anatomy is not something I want to think about right now."

"There's someone whose anatomy you would?"

"Are you suggesting something, Roddy? I saw quite enough of you earlier. You should give advance warning the next time you take your trousers off in public."

"That wasn't my fault! That was Bruce's idea! One of them, anyway…"

"You took them off because a Bruce asked you to?"

"Oh, _now_ who's suggesting something, Rita?"

"I'm just saying, you pulled my trousers down when we escaped from the Toad the first time around and you lost your own the second time. That's not a great record there…"

The boat sailed away until the conversation of its crew was lost in the thickening snowfall. Eventually they disappeared altogether. And then there were only the waves on the water…

...and in the distance there were the islands, just as they had always been.

_The End_


End file.
